Archive for the ‘Greyface’ Category

ThundHer-Perfect Pineal Gland

August 21, 2006

TRANSLATED by POPE LoUDICRUCE (H.I.M.O.D.)
(because Eris Demanded it!)

I was sent forth from the Chaos,
And I have come to those who reflect upon DISORDER
AND I have been found among those who seek after ORDER.
Look upon me, you who reflect upon Bureaucracy,
And you GreyFaces hear me.
You who are waiting for me, take me to your church functions
And do not banish me from your parties.
Those Bimbos on Limbo Peak know what happens when I am snubbed!
And do not make your ART without me, nor your work.
Do not be ignorant of me anywhere or any time.
Be on your guard!
The ” ! ”
Do not be ignorant of the ” ! “
For I am the First and Last.
I am the Honored One and the Scorned One.
I am the Trojan Horse and the Condom.
I am not the wife or Virgin.
I am the Mother of Suyort Xul, and Malcalypse the Younger,
And Omar Ravenhurst, Bob Dobbs and many Others!
I am the Members of my Popes, flaccid and erect!
I am the Yonis of my Papesses, wet and dry!
I am the Barren One and many are her sons.
I am She Whose Middle Finger is Raised,
And I have not taken a husband.
I am the Stripper and She Who Does Not Bare.
I am the Sole Ace in the Poker Game.
I am the Eristic and the Aneristic and it is my Pineal Gland who begot me.
I am the mother of my father’s sister’s second cousin thrice removed and the sister of my husband’s daughter-we live in a trailer park-
and I am the whore of my brother’s football team
and my favorite band is Offspring.
I am the Mistress of Him Who Got Me Drunk.
I am the Ruler of my own Vagina.
But She is the One who got me in trouble before The Time on a birthday.
And she is my hypnotic weapon against the GreyFaces,
and my Power is from Her.
I am the staff of Her Power in his mouth,
And She is the Rod of my old man in bondage.
And whatever hot wax she spills falls on his nipples.
I am the Psylance that is Invincible and the Idea
whose remembrance is frequent.
I am the Voice Whose Sound is ” ! ”
And the Whose Appearance Is Multiple.
I am the Udder Dance of Madness!
Why, you who hate Me, do you love Me,
And hate those who love Me?
You who deny Me, confess Me,
And you who confess Me, deny Me,
And you who deny confessing Me, confess denying Me,
And you who have denied confessing denying that you confessed
That you denied confessing de-Nile, swim for your life!
You who tell the truth about Me, lie about Me,
And you who have lied about Me, tell the truth about Me,
And you who have lied about telling the truth about lying about me
Have confused even ME!
You who gnow Me, be igneous of Me,
For I am stoned also.
And those who have not gnown me, let them blow me.
For I am Gnawledge and Whizdumb.
I am sham artist and snakeoil.
I am banged; I am shagged.
I ate steak and drank Ale; what happened then, I don’t recall.
I am War and Peace-no wait, that’s Leo Tolstoy.
Give head to me.
I am the One Who Is Disc Raced and the Mothership is coming.
Give Heed to my Perversion and my wealth.
Be Arid Extra Dry © when I am cast out upon Earth without my deodorant,
And you will find that my armpits do not smell.
And do not look at Me when I am sitting on the Crapper
Nor go and leave Me without toilet paper.
You will find Me in the Kingdumbs.
And do not look upon me when I am cast out among those fishies in the
Hudson river who nibble at the privates of doomed Mafiosa,
Nor laugh at Me. Hell, just don’t look at Me that way!
Don’t look at me that way!
And do not cast me out among those who are slain in violence.
Because I am not dead yet Stupid!
But I, I am compassionate and I am cruel.
Be on your guard!
Do not obey Authority!
Question Everything!
And pay no attention to the WoMan behind the curtain.
In my weekends do not forsake me,
And do not be afraid of my Calendar.
For why do you despise my POEEs and curse my Pentabarf?
But I am She Who Exists In All Organized Religions.
I am She who is Eris and I am well in a pleasant place.
I am centless and I am Wize to your tricks.
Why have you snubbed Me in your Chaonsels?
Didn’t I tell you not to do that? Boy Oh Boy, you’ve had it!
For I shall be avenged among those who are silly Bimbos!
And I shall appear and speak, *why then have you Snubbed Me you Greeks?
Because I am a Libertarian among the Libertarians?
For I am the Whizdumb of the POEEs and the Gnawledge of the Discordians.
I am the One Whose Name Is Great In Egypped
And the One who has a bad image among the Christians.
I am the One who has been hated everywhere
And who has been loved everywhere.
Iam the One whom the Discordians call Eris and you have called me ‘Bitch’
Iam the One whom they call Law, and you have called ‘Lawlessness’.
I am the One whom you have pursued,
And I am the One whom you haved sized up.
I am the One who has scattered you and you have gathered together.
I am the One before whom you have been shagged,
And you have been shagged by me!
I am She who does not keep Festival,
And I am She whose Festivals are many.
I, I am godless goddess, Chaos, Eris, Discordia, Kali, Black Mad Donna,
And I am the One whose Kat is Great.
I am the One whom you have defecated upon,
And you have scored Me.
I am unlearned and they learn from Me.
I am the One that you have despised,
And you defecated upon Me[for this you WILL pay!]
I am the One whom you have hidden from,
And you appear unto Me, peek-a-boo!
But whenever you hide yourselves,
I Myself will appear.
Then I will hide Myself from you.
This is called ‘Hide and Seek.’
Those of you who have Twister©, may play that too, senselessly!
Take Me! I’m Yours! Good Grief Charlie Brown!
And take to yourselves Understanding for the grief of Charles Brown
When he misses the Kick.
Take Me to your Leaders or I will take your Leaders places
Even that are ugly and in ruin and rob from those Leaders which are ugly
Even though in Goodness.
Out of shape, take Me to yourselves Shapelessly;
And out of Shapelessness and Shape,
Unbraid my members hair yourselves.
And come for Ward to me, you who gnow Me
And you who gnow My Beaver.
Immanentize the Eschaton!
Come forward to Second Childhood!
Do not despise it because it makes you drool and visit the hospital.
And do not turn away Great Nessies in some lochs
From the small Nessies in other lochs.
For the small Nessies are gnown from the Great Nessies.
Why do you curse Me and honor Me?
You have wound up DiscomBoBulated and you blame me?
You lack slack jack!
Do not see pirates where there are none.
And do not cast anyone overboard nor make them walk the plank.
I gnow Purple Chaos when I see one!
For I am the Mind of Mu and the rest of the Sacred Chao.
I am the gnawledge of my NchoirE,
And the finding of those who seek after Whizdumb,
And the command of those who see the
And the Tower of Power is my gnawledge.
The POOEs have been sent at my word, and of Sirius the DogStar
In his constellation by my Chaonsel,
And of spirits of every man and WoMan and Cabbage
Who exists with Me, and of women who dwell within Me.
I am the One Who Is Snubbed, and who tosses the Apple,
And who is despised scornfully.
I am Peas and War has come because of Me.
And “…I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien,
I’m an English man in New York…”
Just kidding, that’s Sting~where were we?
Oh, I am the subGenius and the One Who Has No subGenius affiliation.
Those who are without, associate with Me and
the subGenuii and we are stoned again.
And those who are subGenuii are the Ones Who Gnow Me.
Those who have been close to Me have been igneous of Me and are still stoned, and those who are far away from Me,
Are the Ones Who Are Far Away From Me.
On the day when I am close to you, you are far away from Me;
Do you think I stink?
I am control and The Uncontrollable.
I am the Union and the Confederacy.
I am the abiding and I am the dissolution.
I am the Eristic and the AnEristic.
I am Judge Judy with an erection and I meant what I said!
I yam what I yam!
The continuous push~pull of the Hodge~Podge is turning
The matter~antimatter in the third stomach of the Sacred chao
Which belches and farts and says, *Mu*
Hear me in gentleness and learn of me in roughness.
Iam She who cries out, *Mu, Mu*
And I am cast forth upon the GreyFaces of the Earth.
I pre~pared the Golden Apple Corp and the KSC.
I am the gnawledge of Zarathud.
I am the One Who Cries Out, *Kallisti!*
And I listen fo the echo.
I appear and walk in naked glory to seal the Pineal Glands of my Popes.
I am bare breasted in defense of my Goddesses.
I am the One who is called Discordia and Eris and
Our Lady Of The Starry Heavens.
You honor Me and you whisper against Me.
You who are Van Squished, judge them
(to see how many they were able to squish into the van)
before they give Judge Judy free reign over you,
because the Van and the Squishing exist in you.

For what is inside of you is what is outside of you because
You drank more beer than anyone I ever saw drink before!
And what you put inside of you, you see outside of you;
It is visible and it is your vomit.
Hear me, you Cabbages and learn of my words, you who gnow Me!
I am the ? that is attainable to everything;
I am the speech that cannot be grasped.
I am the Sound of the Name THUD.
And the Sound of the Name ERIS.
I am the sign of the numbers and letters 23SKIDOO!
HAIL ERIS! HAIL DISCORDIA! HAIL ERIS! HAIL DISCORDIA!
HAIL ERIS! HAIL DISCORDIA! HAIL ERIS! HAIL DISCORDIA!
HAIL ERIS! HAIL DISCORDIA!

How To Identify A Greyface

February 16, 2006

I awoke in the hospital following a severe beating. Evangelism and Discordianism do not mix well, a fact I had not yet discovered in those early days of my Lessons in Baloney, as a result I had taken to the streets to spread the word of the Sacred Chao only to be met with fists in response. These are violent times. All times are violent times. I tried to take heart in the fact that ‘Eris’ literally translated to ‘strife’, which I was becoming intimately acquainted with, so in some sense the beatings must have a positive effect. My cheeks and jaw, however, did not agree. Also,I knew that my reason for being in the hospital was to learn about the dreaded Greyfaces, so I was somewhat optimistic.

It was after one of these instances that I woke up in the hospital next to a broken egg which spoke. “Howdy-do” it said, raising a thin weak arm in salute.

“Great Googly Moogly” I said.

“Nope.” the egg said. “Great Humpty Dumpty.”

“Jeez, you don’t look good.” I said, which was perhaps rude, but also true. He was in several pieces; in fact one eye peered at me from a fragment, and the other eye on a completely different piece seemed to pay close attention to a nearby nurse’s hind quarters.

“I feel even better,” he said with glee.

“Why are you in here?” I asked.

“Ha!” the egg cried. “What a ridiculously easy riddle, you must be some sort of maroon. I am in here because this is where I am, of course. How stupid.”

“I meant to say, what caused you to be broken into pieces?”

“If that’s what you meant to say, then why didn’t you say it?”

“I thought I had.” I replied.

“You remembered yourself saying what you thought you said? or you had intended to say what you thought you said but something else completely different came out? or you think someone deliberately changed your words mid-sentence to convey a completely different idea? or you’re just a maroon?”

I considered for a few moments.

“Well?” he asked. “Which is it?”

“I thought that what I asked implied the question I meant to ask.”

“Ohhhh,” the egg laughed. “Implication. Verbal molestation.”

This seemed to end the conversation, and the egg simply lay on the stretcher, one eye following the nurse, and the other blinking now and then. I waited for a few minutes to see whether he was lost in thought and was planning to answer, or whether the conversation was indeed over.

It seemed the conversation was over, but I still wanted to know how he had been broken. I had ideas, but I wanted the story from him.

“Well?” I asked finally.

The eye looked back at me. “That’s not much of a riddle.” he said. “nice sporting chance you gave me.”

“But, I -“

“Wait wait, let me think for a moment.” he said. “All right, bananas.”

” What about bananas?”

“That’s my answer.”

“You’re answer to WHAT?”

“To your terrible riddle. Really, you didn’t give me much to go on. I think my answer was rather clever, though, didn’t you? Nobody would guess bananas just from a single word – well, would they? Gosh I’m good. Was it correct? Was bananas the answer?”

“No bananas wasn’t the fucking answer! I hadn’t even asked you a question yet you silly little shit.”

“Of course you had. You really are stupid. You asked “Well?” which by all accounts is the worst riddle I’ve ever heard in my entire life but still I was respectful enough to venture an answer based on the meagre information given. And as I said, I think my answer was rather clever. Bananas. Imagine. Nobody would guess that. Fantastic.”

“Listen.” I said. “All I wanted to know is what caused you to be broken into so many pieces. It is not such a difficult question.”

“No, it isn’t.” he said. “It’s not overly interesting either, when you think about it. After all, I already know the answer.”

“Well, what IS it?”

“Bananas!” the egg blurted. “What about that time? Was that the right answer? Oh I am so good at these.”

“Forget it.” I said, turning away from him. “I already know how you broke anyway, everyone knows that.”

“Yet, you still asked. You silly silly man.”

“Look,” I said. “The whole point of this story was to teach me about the Greyfaces. Weren’t you paying attention in the opening paragraph?”

“I rarely read exposition.” he yawned. “I mostly scan the text looking for my name.”

“Well, that is what this story was supposed to be about, greyfaces, and instead you have nattered on about riddles and bananas and whatever else meaningless bullshit you’ve been blabbering uselessly about. This has been a complete and utter waste of time so far, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” Humpty said with a wink. At least I think it was a wink, the piece with the other eye had shifted away from my view. “This lesson about Greyfaces has been most enlightening.”

“No it has not. Nobody has learned anything about Greyfaces thanks to you. This has been a huge waste of time.”

“But we got to meet such a wonderful example of Greyfacedness, and all have a good chuckle at how dull and tedious he is, oh I disagree I think this has been loads of fun, and so educational. Except for that riddle of yours, that was dreadful.”

I got up on one elbow and looked over at the mass of pieces on the other stretcher. “What Greyface have we met?” I asked.

“Why you, you silly silly man.” he laughed. “You have been nothing but serious, clinical and humourless since I met you. I’ve never seen such a wonderful example of a Greyface. I couldn’t have done better myself. And I’m rather good. Bravo.”

“Me?!” I rolled onto my back again. Was it possible I could be a greyface? Was I so serious? Was I clinical? Was I humourless? Had I learned nothing? Staring up at the ceiling I began to think about the aspects of greyfaces and how -at the very leat- I could watch for these tendencies in myself more easily now that I could identify them, and just as I was wondering whether my clinical thinking about identifying and eradicating these elements in myself was rather greyfaced in its own way the ceiling above me crashed open and a charred person fell to the ground between Humpty and myself.

“Great Googly Moogly!” I screamed.

“Nope.” the egg said. “Great Humpty Dumpty.”

The charred person stood up and looked at me. “Great Googly Moogly!” he shouted.

“Nope.” the egg said. “Great Humpty Dumpty.”

“You’re ME!” the charred person exclaimed, and I finally noticed that the voice sounded familiar. “I already went through all this!” he, or I, shouted, looking around at Humpty and the hospital. “but, you were me then!” he added.

“I’m just me.” I said.

“I am me and me and me and me and me and me.” Humpty giggled.

Just as I was about to ask the other me why I was so charred and burnt a man in a grey suit and sunglasses came marching down the hall toward the three of us. As he approached us he flashed a shiny gold badge. “Officer Serious, Continuity Officer. You are in direct violation of standard fiction laws.”

“What?” I asked, although I’m not certain which one of me asked to be perfectly honest.

“Two Baron von Hooplas is in direct violation of code 2323 in the fiction law books, go look it up if you don’t believe me.” as he spoke he grabbed hold of the gurney I was on, and began to push it.

“But wait, why is this-” I started to ask.

“If the two Baron von Hooplas both had some reason for being present, such as a clone being made, or a reflection stepping from a mirror it would get through on a technicality, but this is in direct violation. I’m sorry, one of you must go.” he said, and began to wheel me down the hall away from me and Humpty Dumpty.

“Toodles!” Humpty called, waving a thin arm.

“But wait!” I called out to Mr. Serious. “I was the original Baron von Hoopla in the story!”

As he tapped a wall and a panel slid aside opening into a dimly lit lounge, he muttered: “That’s what they all say, bub.”

He pushed me inside and I saw four people already sitting around in the gloom. “Let me introduce you to your new friends. Might as well get acquainted, you’re going to be here for a while . . . this is Ambrose Bierce, Lord Bathurst, Amelia Earheart, and the grown Lindburgh Baby. Get cozy. So long, suckers.”

Mr. Serious walked out, shutting the panel behind him. I looked around at the others in the room. Ambrose smiled, and said “Do you play Go Fish?”

Cabbages And Greyfaces

August 3, 2005

One day I was storming down the street howling to the skies and mud about the greyfaces that assaulted me on a daily basis, when I suddenly heard someone nearby howling louder than myself. It wasn’t hard to spot the gnarled old bastard with a face like a chewed caramel zigzagging back and forth across the streets grabbing people by their ears and bellowing “IS ANYONE THERE?” into their faces, then turning to someone else and repeating the same procedure. One after the other after the other . . . I watched, stunned, wondering why the people being screamed at didn’t take offense. If someone grabbed me by the ears and screamed into my face he would be swiftly introduced to my good friend Mr. Steel-Toe Boot, but these people seemed to swoon, and then stare off into space in a daze.

I had to find out what was going on.

Eventually the old coot made his way toward me and grabbed for my ears. Before he could take hold I said, Yes, I am here. What do you want?

The old man didn’t blink an eye but just grabbed me by the shoulder and walked me onto a quieter side street. Thank the goddess, he said, sputtering and breathing hard. I thought I was the only one left, he added.

The only what? I asked. He turned his paper-slit eyes toward me and said: The only person left.

The only person? But what about all the people you were shouting at?? I asked. For a few moments he stared blankly at me, as if he hadn’t heard what I said. Those weren’t people, he said finally, they were Cabbages.

Cabbages? I asked. They looked like people to me. The old man laughed. Of course they looked like people, Cabbages look exactly like people. They walk like people, they talk like people, they eat like people, they sleep like people, they go to work like people, they see movies like people, they watch tv like people, they read books like people . . . they are the best copies of people you’ll ever see. But they are not people, my son, they are most assuredly Cabbages.

What’s the difference? I asked. He leaned toward me, and said: People dream, my boy, people question. People think. People play. People laugh. Look at these poor souls, sleepwalking through life . . . they think they’re people, but they are vegetables. Blind, ridiculous, vegetables.

Ah ha, I said with glee. I know many Cabbages, my life is full of them, and they are the bane of my existence! I know them as Greyfaces!

No! the old man said quickly. Do not mistake the two . . . Greyfaces and Cabbages are not the same, except when they are. Greyfaces are much more dangerous.

Dangerous? I asked. How?

Well, let me ask you this, he said, which would you be most wary of . . . a sleeping dog, or a dog having a nightmare?

I suppose a dog having a nightmare, I said. The old man smiled. Exactly, he said. A Greyface is a Cabbage who is living a nightmare. The Greyface’s nightmare is truly terrifying. He is told that the world will crumble around him if all do not think and act exactly as he does, the only sane person on the face of the planet, and will stop at nothing to ensure that his nightmare doesn’t come true. Greyfaces believe the world is humorless and product-driven. He believes there is a way to draw a perfect circle and you damned well better find out how, or pay the price. Never turn your back on the Greyface, my son.

I pondered this. So, I said after a while, those I referred to as Greyfaces were actually Cabbages?

I don’t know them personally, the old man said, but I would imagine they were. Almost everyone you meet is a Cabbage.

What’s the difference, I asked the old man.

All Greyfaces are Cabbages, he said, but not all Cabbages are Greyfaces. Some Cabbages wake up and become real people, some even become Children of the Goddess if they are very on the ball . . . but Greyfaces rarely become people.

How do I know if I’m a Cabbage? I asked.

He stood up, and patted me on the shoulder. Son, the Cabbages never even ask that.

The old man began to walk away from me, toward an older lady. I could see his fingers twitching with anticipation at the thought of grabbing hold of her ears. WAIT! I called out to him, What is your name?

He turned back to me briefly. Coleslaw, he said. For, I shred the cabbage of people’s minds.

Hail Eris!

My Top Five Greyfaces

June 29, 2005

1) Stephen Harper, Leader of “Progressive” Conservatives Party

2) Jerry Falwell, “model” X-tian

3) James Randi, professional skeptic

4) Tucker Carlson, all around jerk-off

5) Ben Shapiro, author of “Porn Generation” and pro-censorship advocate

Hail Eris!

All Work And No Play . . .

May 30, 2005

Over the weekend I had been worrying about the campaigns for promoting wonder, humour and wackiness in Hogtown . . . it was frustrating me that it had been put off, but it was also frustrating me that I didn’t feel I was planning enough . . . people’s ‘roles’ seemed vague for the most part, there seemed to still be confusion as to what order everything was going to happen, or whether a run-through was going to be possible . . . I was beginning to wonder if it would happen at all, and if it did, whether it would be a disaster.

As I lounged pondering these thoughts, a large shiny cockroach tittered (is tittered a word?) tittered across the top of the table toward me, and stopped. It’s antennae swayed in the nonexistent breeze as it studied me, and I, in return, studied it.

A resonating basso profundo voice was suddenly filling the space between my ears. I AM GULIK the voice said . . . I COME TO YOU WITH A MESSAGE FROM THE GODDESS.

“Oh?” I asked, sitting up a little straighter, which is difficult, when lounging in a beanbag chair. “And, what, pray, is the message?” I asked.

The roach tittered (I’m going with it, so there) closer to me, and cocked its head as pretty much only cockroaches in the insect world can do, and said, “STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKING GREYFACE!” and then scampered off the same way it had come.

I considered finding a shoe to stomp it with before it ran into a crack in the wall, out of run-of-the-mill human irritation, but realized that the insect was, in fact, correct – I was being a greyface. I had got so caught up in the planning of the campaign for wonder and fun that I had forgotten that it was intended to inspire wonder and fun for us, too. Why force something like this into work? Isn’t there enough work in the world already? Couldn’t there be more play?

In that mindset I have decided not to worry about it anymore. We are Discordians, after all, not activists.

Some words from the poet Lu Yu:

the clouds above us join and separate,
the breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns.
life is like that, so why not relax?
who can stop us from celebrating?

Hail Eris!